Tag Archives: Boston

THIRD TIME IS A CHARM

Now that several weeks have passed since the completion of my oil stone box project, I have detached myself enough to have gained perspective on it. The oil stone box was PC 1’s (Preservation Carpentry) first woodworking assignment, and it “seemed fairly straight forward.” The box is intended  to hold my combination Chrystalon and India sharpening stone. I find it humorous that two months ago I would’ve had no idea what a combination stone was, let alone know how to use it; and now I have a protective desire to shelter it with a crafted wooden box.  My box was rather basic , measuring 8″ x 3″ x 1″ and made of two mirroring halves of Eastern White Pine married by two 1/2″ x 1/4″ dowels. We started by drafting a life size drawing of the box we planned to build, and then we ran the pieces of wood through a series of milling steps (all by hand), which I will elaborate on. The halves were hollowed out by chisel and mallet and hand planed with a freshly sharpened blade, which unfortunately demonstrated its keenness by opening up one of my knuckles. Prior to this experience, I have never drafted, nor have I ever used a plane, chisel or mallet…so the learning curve was very steep.

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At this juncture in my life, I have gotten to know myself fairly well (a couple of decades of therapy have helped with this); and one of the things I have learned about myself is that I DON’T DO SIMPLE. If given the choice between a) a freshly paved and sealed, straight, and secure road and b) one that is bumpy, and full of steep climbs, treacherous downhills and tight windy turns, I inevitably opt for “b” 99% of the time. The peculiar twist about me is that even though I have spent a lifetime taking the more challenging road, I still find myself underestimating how difficult and time-consuming my travels down that road will be.  In fact, the definition of insanity often used in the addiction world  (“doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”) rings particularly true in this case.

After drafting our oil stone boxes and having it reviewed by our instructor, we completed our stock list and started on the following basic milling steps:

  • 1. FLATTEN ONE SIDE OF ONE BOARD- (TOOLS: Bench plane #4 or #5, and Starrett Combination Square)
  • 2. PLANE BOARD TO THICKNESS- (TOOLS: Marking Gauge, Bench plane, and Starrett Combination Square)
  • 3. JOINT AN EDGE- (TOOLS: Bench plane and Starrett Combination Square)
  • 4. RIP TO WIDTH- (TOOLS: Rip Hand Saw)
  • 5. SQUARE RIPPED EDGE- (Bench Plane and Starrett Combination Square)
  • 6. SQUARE AN END- (Hand plane, Bench/Block Blane, Marking knife)
  • 7. CUT TO LENGTH- (Crosscut saw, Starrett Combination Square, Bench/Block plane)

A few weeks after making the oil stone box, we started on our second project (a pair of saw horses). This involved the same seven milling steps on every piece of wood,  but this time we had to do all our milling with power tools in the shop rather than by hand. Although I made plenty of mistakes throughout, I guess the progress is that the phrase “third time is a charm,” is solely reserved for my oil stone box and not my saw horses.  In spite of the fact that I anticipated the oil stone box project would be fairly simple, it took me starting over three times before getting it right. At times like these, I am grateful for the wisdom of people like James Joyce who said, “A man’s mistakes are his portals of discovery” and John Powell who shared, “The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing.” The mistakes I learned from during these two woodworking projects included the following:

  • a) when flattening a board with a bench plane (step 1), check to see where the high and low spots are before just excitedly setting the plane loose on the board.
  • b) when planing to thickness (step 2), follow the previously mentioned tip because you might take off too much wood if you just start shaving willy nilly without paying close attention to your line.
  • c) triple check what line you are cutting with any saw because you might cut a line that was not supposed to be cut…especially when this is one of your final steps :)
  • d) Keep in mind Albert Einstein’s phrase, “Anyone who never made a mistake has never tried anything new.” Then adjust your expectations accordingly.

To measure my level of success in terms of my first two projects, again I will turn to the eloquence and wisdom of those who came before me…

  • I don’t measure a man’s success by how he climbs but how high he bounces when he hits the bottom.” George Patton
  • The size of your success is measured by the strength of your desire; the size of your dream; and how you handle disappointment along the way.” Robert Kiyosaki
  • Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.” Herman Cain
  • “The greatest barrier to success is the fear of failure.”                             Sven Goran Eriksson

As I consider how applicable these quotes are to my oil stone box and saw horses projects, I can proudly own my success. Before mulling these quotes over, I would have acknowledged my success in spite of the mistakes I made; but now I recognize that my mistakes are instrumental components of my success.  These projects were successful because…

  • I tried
  • I didn’t give up
  • I started over
  • I felt discouraged and defeated, and pulled myself up
  • I asked for help
  • I laughed and had fun along the way
  • I learned a lot
  • I didn’t give in to my fear of failure
  • I gave my best
  • I finished

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P.S. That little knuckle cut from my freshly sharpened block plane iron did a little more damage than I first thought. Another first to add to the list…1st in my class to have surgery after an injury sustained in class. Basically the equation was this…

1 sharp plane iron + 1 new carpenter (me) = 1 severed tendon + surgery to screw tendon into bone + 6 weeks of splinted finger + OT185006008009007008 (2)009 (2)007 (2)

 

 

A PERFECT END TO SUMMER

TO WATCH MY YOUTUBE VIDEO ON THIS RIDE, CLICK HERE.  

I am embarrassed that it has taken me five weeks to write this blog post about my Quincy to the Bronx bike trek, but trust me it is not due to a lack of thought about it! For the better part of the last month, this post has been looming over me like an overdue final term paper (which I have ample experience with) . In fact, I have started and stopped, edited and re-edited, and inevitably discarded this post several times over. I have changed the name from “317.21” to “Old Faithful’s Adventures” to “Perfect End to Summer.” I am going to spare you the wide array of excuses I could dish out for why I have not written until now. Instead I will write additional blog posts on these topics as soon as I can.

If I turned the clock back 35 days, I would be one hour away from completing my 317.21 mile journey. At this hour I would have been in Port Chester or perhaps Rye, getting closer to my destination in the Bronx. I was nearly out of battery on my iphone,  my water bottles were half depleted, my pockets were emptied of power bars and peanuts, and I was riding on fumes in my personal gas tank. What continued to spur me on was the thought of seeing those rod-iron gates welcoming me back to Fordham, the traditional Gothic buildings housing the Jesuits, and of course Vince Lombardi stadium. I got a big boost in New Rochelle because my pit crew members and I played an exhilerating game of cat and mouse for a couple of miles, where it seemed for a few minutes like I might beat them to our destination. Alas, they ended up cruising past me in my Hyundai Santa Fe, colorfully and festively decorated with window markers….a highly unexpected treat orchestrated by my mom and Justine on day #2. Five weeks later, I still have not scrubbed off the congratulatory writing because it makes me smile every time I see it. I love watching people stare at the words trying to read them as I drive by, and I enjoy answering questions from complete strangers about what “Bike to Build at NBSS” means and why on earth I biked from Quincy to Bronx, NY.

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My last few miles into Fordham were eventful, and at times, scary. I was thrilled cycling the streets of New York again, totally reliving the glory of my bike messenger days and, not feeling a bit over 25 years old…(that is, until I woke up Monday morning). I was so close that I could taste the finish, turning off of 192nd Street and onto Bronx Boulevard, and having less than five miles to go. My cell phone was at about 15%, and Justine texted me to ask me where I was because they got lost on their way to Fordham shortly ahead of me, as the directions led them astray. When I received this text, I was biking back and forth on Bronx Blvd looking for Mosholu Greenway, thinking to myself that getting lost in the Bronx with a dead cell phone minutes before dusk would not be my idea of a fun finish. I composed myself, retraced my steps, and found a bike path that I assumed was the Mosholu Greenway. Who knew there was a long and beautiful biking and walking path filled with men, women and children running, riding, skateboarding, watching and playing softball and handball games, etc…right in the heart of the Bronx…no wonder my pit crew couldn’t find it with their car.

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While there may not have been a fifteen piece marching band banging drums and blowing horns nor a crowd full of screaming fans chanting my name as I reached Fordham University, I saw exactly the site I wanted to see as I pulled in. Through my tired eyes, I saw my mom clapping and yelling my name and Justine wearing a huge smile and armed with her iphone in hand, ready to capture the final video image of the weekend.  It was like water at the end of the desert for me. WE did it…317.21 miles biked and driven over the course of three days, through city streets and back roads and up LOTS AND LOTS OF STEEP HILLS. We followed typed directions, read maps, and used GPS as a back up when needed. My pit crew met my every need….they stopped for ice and snacks, refilled my drinks, made my sandwiches, drove ahead of me and identified places where I could find a bathroom, and provided me with much needed support and inspiration when I needed it most. I may have been physically riding “Old Yeller” alone, but I was far from alone on this ride. As you you will see over the next several paragraphs, the “6th man,” “10th man” or in this case, my “2nd men/women” truly carried me through the ups and downs of this ride…and the 2nd men/women included all of you who supported me through texts, facebook messages, phone calls, donations, and prayers.

088 089 Day 3 Finish at Fordham 2 Day 3 Fordham at night Day 3 Fordham bringin back memories

I realize I started with the end of the story and am working my way backwards, so bear with me and come along for the ride, as this is how my brain is working at this moment.

Day 0 preparations for pit stops Day 0 Preparation

The ride preparation  was extensive, as I was packing enough gatorades, waters, and power bars to get me through the entire ride (and probably an additional week beyond that); enough sodas, fruit, snacks and sandwiches for three days’ lunches; bike clothing for all types of possible weather conditions as well as a bike pump and repair kit for small bike repairs; multiple electronic devices and power cords; and an inordinate amount of dog medications and supplies for our 14 year old blind, deaf, and diabetic dog, Jones…not to mention luggage for three women. Although we were hoping to be in bed nice and early the night before the big ride, the packing went late into the night instead. Even if I went to bed at dusk, I probably would not have slept many winks that night because of the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Day 1 came early as I rose at 4:45, stretched in a hot shower until 5, followed by a protein filled breakfast, and was on the road at 6:15 a.m. Justine did a spontaneous pre-ride video, commenting on the weather conditions and my many bicycle gadgets; and this laid the groundwork of a weekend full of videos in the bookends of each day. Perhaps Justine missed her calling, as she was a real natural behind the camera. We said our goodbyes and good lucks, had our traditional “group hug,” and I left on my way.

Day 1 fuel for morning trip937  Day 1 at Furnace Brook

The first twenty miles were almost effortless because I was so wound up with excitement.  During this first leg of my trip I clicked onto my  Facebook app at least a handful of times. When I did, I saw that my page was flooded with messages from friends, family, and even people I have not met yet. The messages were a mix of cheers, prayers, and “shout outs;” and they warmed my heart, watered my eyes, and moved my spirit. I cannot express how much these kind words helped me over the course of my 317.21 mile journey.  There were many moments of struggle where I turned to Facebook for a lift, which I never thought I would say about a social media site.

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Some of the Day 1 “remember when’s” for me  included:

  • meeting my pit crew at my first pit stop;
  • spacing out at about mile 45, running over a street hazard, and falling off my bike so that my thigh landed squarely onto a 8 inch piece of metal from a street post;
  • my mom missing the “lunch pit stop” on the directions, so I went 32 miles between stops rather than 16 miles and ate lunch at mile 88 at about 4:00;
  • locking my bike outside a convenient store and being unable to unlock it with the combination I previously set;
  • deciding at mile 102 that I would take a different route and meet my crew at the hotel rather than at UConn, a decision I would regret throughout each of the last 15 miles because the route I picked was ENTIRELY UP HILL;
  • being greeted by Justine outside the hotel with her camera ready to videotape the final stretch of day 1
  • splitting a hot chocolate chip cookie sundae with my crew.

Day 1 Last pic before dead battery 079 068078080 085

Day 2 began at much the same time as day 1 with a 4:45 a.m. simultaneous shower and stretch. This stretch took a lot longer because of the previous day’s long ride, and I did so with flip flops on in the shower, being careful not to touch any of the walls of the shower. After riding 117 miles, I was happy to put my head anywhere, but trust me when I say, this place was far from the Ritz Carlton (not that I’ve actually ever stayed there)…and I did everything short of wearing rubber gloves, a tyvek suit, and shower cap to protect myself while I was there. Perhaps I should have investigated the hotel a little futher. If I did, I might have realized that it doubled as a truck stop. That should have been apparent to me when I took my “not so short-cut” to the hotel on day 1 because I was passed by dozens of 18 wheelers nearly grazing my bike as they wizzed by me on the shoulderless Route 74. Well, it became quite evident that we were at a truck stop the next morning when I entered the attached gas-mart and was greeted by aisles stocked full of beef jerkey, CB radio batteries, chewing tobacco, and enough junk food to harden your arteries before you exit the store. I escaped with just an OJ and a bagel and moderately clean arteries.

My day started on a downhill, thanks to Justine dropping me off on the top of a hill inside the massive University of Connecticut campus. Highlights from day 2 included:

  • grabbing some cute shots of the frog bridge and the town of Willimantic;
  • the ferrari parked outside a country store in Lyme;
  • eating lunch with my family overlooking the Connecticut River before taking the Hadlyme Chester Ferry 5 minutes across the river;
  • cornfields, farmland, watching cows grazing and feeding the horses;
  • riding along the water for the last half of the day;
  • biking less than a century today
  • entering New Haven knowing I was 2/3 of the way through
  • Justine’s filming error (forgetting to hit record on video) when I pulled in at the end of day 2, which precipitated me adding 2/10 of a mile because I turned around and rode in again.
  • NEW HAVEN PIZZA

959960Day 2 selfies at UConn at 7am before take off961Day 2 am UConn flagsDay 2 cool shots in Willimantic contdDay 2 Aint that the truthDay 2 Frog Bridge Corner Left FrogDay 2 Welcome to WillimanticDay 2 Welcoming againDay 2 Willimantic brewery at Post officeDay 2 in corn fieldDay 2 Old Yeller in corn field 096

Day 2 Lyme Horse made my dadDay 2 Lyme horse stop 1Day 2 Ferry and Castle in Background  968 969  Day 2 Hadlyme ferry stop 2Day 2 Ferry break 3 ladies   Day 2 beautiful island home Day 2 Coastal CT Day 2 Coastal Yellow  Day 2 Crab Catchers         Day 2 house with buoys     105Day 2 New Haven water approaching sunset

Day 3 had its downs and ups, starting with “downs” and ending with “ups.” The night between days 2 and 3 was one in which I was not able to catch many winks. Unlike night 1, I wasn’t feeling like I needed to delouse the room, as our hotel was markedly better. However, after more than 200 miles and 20 plus hours on a bike, my short and long-twitched muscles were cursing at me and they punished me with a major case of “restless leg.” In order to not keep Justine awake the whole night as I tossed and turned, I moved to the floor. I slid Jones over next to me, as he was cuddled up on my (now his) Red Sox blanket. I tried to wrap myself in the part of the blanket he wasn’t laying on, which wasn’t much. At this point I did not care a bit about being wrapped in a dog-hair blanket on a hotel room floor because it was 2 a.m. and I just wanted to sleep for a couple of hours. Needless to say, this contributed to feeling overly tired, cranky, and pessimistic on the morning of day 3. This feeling wasn’t helped by the fact that I was not sure how to get from my hotel to the University of New Haven, where my directions were starting from that day; and so I got a little lost. I started my day later than I had the last two days,  and I was stressed because I wanted to make it to the Bronx early enough to be able to tour around Fordham and eat in Little Italy. With my late start, this was looking less likely. The weather was overcast and before long it started to sprinkle, and this was the figurative straw that broke this camel’s back because I began to break down shortly thereafter. The combination of physical exhaustion, negative thinking, and fear of the challenges that lay ahead at school overcame me for a few minutes and I had myself a good cry. I caught this on video because if I ever do a documentary on the experience, I want it to offer the full range of mood and experience.

One of the most powerful lessons I have learned through grieving a variety of losses, from the deaths of my grandmother and brother to the multitude of losses we’ve experienced through infertility, is that no matter how painful the feelings, they will pass. Because of that, I knew that these feelings at the start of day 3 would dissipate as the day went along; and so they did. Within an hour of me crying into my iphone, the sun was shining and I was videotaping a much happier and hopeful version of myself.

Consistent with the Connecticut of the first two days, there were plenty of hills on day 3. In the beginning of the day Shelton greeted me with a steady 3 mile incline, but that could not hold a candle to the climb in Greenwich, which was only 1/3 of a mile long, but was as steep a hill as I have ever cycled up. I stuck to my personal promise to not walk my bike unless absolutely necessary, but this hill almost made me buckle on this commitment. I was traveling at a swift pace of 3 miles per hour, a rate which will generally cause a bike to sway side to side and almost tip over…BUT AGAIN, I DID NOT WALK!

My favorite landscapes were the miles of farmland, and the water views were a close second. The most “other wordly” area I traveled through was Greenwich, CT. I say “other wordly” because I have never seen mega-mansions like these in my life. Every house came equipped with an enormous rod-iron gate, stone wall spanning the width of the expansive yards, and high-tech video cameras and security systems. Most had tennis courts, golf holes, and pools; and these were only the amenities I could see over the towering walls. My overwhelming sense when I traveled through Greenwich (besides awe), was one of separation because the idea of chatting with one’s neighbor while mowing the lawn or getting the mail seemed out of the question…and this made me sad for some reason. I also use the words “other worldly” because when driving through the outer edge of Greenwich, I passed our version of the automile, BUT NOT….as the dealerships included Maserati, Ferrari, Bentley, and Astin-Martin, just to name a few.  What made this more strange (besides the fact that I have never laid eyes on these types of cars before) was that about 1/2 mile down the road in Port Chester were beat-up Buicks and project apartments…”other worldly.”

Day 3 Golf hole in Greenwich yard Day 3 Greenwich 1 Day 3 Greenwich 2 Day 3 Greenwich 8 Day 3 Greenwich 10 Day 3 Greenwich 11 Day 3 Greenwich 15 Day 3 Greenwich 16

Day 3 Greenwich dealerships 2 Day 3 Greenwich dealerships Day 3 Greenwich Ferrari

Once leaving Greenwich and heading into the likes of Port Chester, Rye, Mamaroneck, New Rochelle, and Pelham, I was getting closer to accomlishing my goal, and I knew it. The idea of jumping in my car in Greenwich and hitching a ride to Fordham had now left me, and I was fully determined to get to the Bronx on two wheels, not four. Seeing the “Entering New York” sign propelled me forward, as did the Bronx ones; and they gave me the second wind that I needed. Before long, I was weaving in and out of cars like a bike messenger, cycling up Southern Boulevard, peeking at the top of Lombardi Stadium, passing the Botanical Gardens, turning through the iron gates into Fordham University, and looking for my dedicated pit crew members who were offering up my final welcome. After five months of physical training, fundraising, publicity, and thank you writing, it all came down to these final miles in the Bronx where my former and current lives collided. Although I didn’t arrive with enough time to dine in Little Italy, I had about forty minutes to show my partner Justine where I became the highly intelligent, worldly, and responsible woman whom she met and fell in love with years later…or at least where I thought I was all of those things after a few pitchers at Clark’s Bar…how times have changed, Thank you God!

Day 3 Happy Sign Day 3 Happy moment Day 3 Interesting angle Day 3 Lifted at pit stop

Day 3 New Roc City Day 3 New RochelleDay 3 Bronx Blvd Day 3 Remember whenDay 3 Botanical GardensDay 3 Fordham gates

TO WATCH MY YOUTUBE VIDEO ON THIS RIDE, CLICK HERE.  

 

 

CAN’T TAKE THE BIKE MESSENGER OUT OF THE GIRL

If your would like to donate to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS Fund, click here.

This past Wednesday my bicycle mission began at 9 a.m., a little late as I found out later in the day when I scrambled to get to my evening destination. My focus was clear and my goals included the following:

  1. Go to North Bennet Street School to take some shots of the school for the video I hope to have made for my fundraising ride.
  2. Try out Google Maps to see how well the app works in a pinch to get me from one known destination to another, and evaluate how much iphone juice it drinks in the process.
  3. Purchase a replacement for Miss CatEye (my odometer), and have that installed.
  4. Try out my new wireless  battery charger for my phone to see how long it takes to revive a dying phone and what the life expectancy is once revived.
  5. Use the directions from the first 20 miles of the ALS Ride to travel from Newton to Holliston and see how well I negotiate the roads when looking down at directions frequently.
  6. Test my map reading skills when bicycling home from Holliston to Quincy, using only my bicycle maps…and no electronic devices.
  7. Oh yeah, and bicycle 70 to 80 miles, making sure to be home by 5 so that I can get to my meeting at 6:00 p.m.

I accomplished goal #2 on my ride to North Bennet Street School. I walked out my door, entered my starting point and my destination into the Google Maps app, turned up the volume on my wireless speaker tucked into my small backpack, and let Miss Google direct me through Quincy, Dorchester, South Boston, and into the North End. I must admit it is a lot harder to hear Miss Google’s voice kindly instructing me on which turn to take when she has to compete with the wind vibrating through my ear drums, the symphony of horns blowing in city traffic, sirens bellowing from every direction, and angry Boston drivers greeting each other with their version of Boston Love, “Watch wheeahh ya goin ya mutha f*%#a.” Once I got onto Dorchester Avenue, affectionately known as “Dot Ave” around these parts, I was transported back to my bike messenger days in New York City. Unlike many of my recent distance rides, my forearms were not resting on the pads above my handlebars, and my arms were no longer stretched towards the aerobars in a relaxed manner. Instead, my hands were gripped firmly on the lower bend of the handle bars, ready to grab the brakes at a moment’s notice. My head was on a swivel taking in the cars and trucks on all sides of me, especially those who were driving close behind me and the cars parked on the side of the road whose doors swing open into traffic spontaneously. I wasn’t calmly sitting back in the saddle taking in the picturesque scenery. I was on the edge of my seat dodging pot holes, sucking in the smog, ducking under side view mirrors of commercial vehicles, and avoiding pedestrians who unconsciously walk into traffic while staring mindlessly at their electronic devices. I have to admit I got a little charge from the “riskiness” of the whole experience. This thrill reminded me why I loved being a bike messenger so much; but by the end of the day I was thankful those days have passed after    1) hitting a side mirror with my backpack when squeezing between trucks, 2) going into a store praying my bike remains in its place with all its same parts when I come out, and 3) getting hit by a driver who cut me off because she “didn’t see any cars coming.”

I accomplished goal #1 by way of goal #2, and I arrived safely at North Bennet Street School about 40 minutes after leaving Quincy. Considering this is a fair amount quicker than it takes to travel via the T, I am considering a cycling commute to school while the weather is nice, providing I don’t have to carry a bunch of tools each day. I looked like a cross between a stalker and a tourist outside North Bennet Street taking photographs from multiple vantage points, mostly of the building and surrounding quaint North End neighborhood, but I must admit that I snuck in a few selfies as well. While inside NBSS, I reintroduced myself to the receptionist announcing that I will be returning in the fall. Like everyone I have met at NBSS so far, she seems to love the students and genuinely looks forward to their return come September. While waiting for the ladies room, a much sought after commodity for a cyclist on a long ride, I happened to see NBSS’s President Miguel Gomez-Ibanez, in the waiting room chatting with a visitor. I wanted to introduce myself, since we have communicated via email a couple times and he kindly made a donation to my fundraiser, but he was occupied by another conversation and I conveniently left my courage at home. Oh well, another opportunity will come soon enough because I am starting school in less than two months.

I accomplished objective # 3 at Back Bay Bicycles, which was located conveniently on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston. The guys in the shop that day couldn’t have been nicer or more efficient. I walked out with a younger, slimmer, and wireless replacement for Miss CatEye in the form of the Sigma BC 16.12 STS CAD, and they had it on in about 20 minutes. It served me well the rest of the day because I could finally track my mileage, cadence, and speed again.

Because I had Miss Google Maps guiding me to NBSS, and I had taken pictures and video while there, I had used about 70% of my iphone battery by the time I went to Back Bay Bicycles, and I had most of my ride still ahead of me. Thankfully, I had recently bought the Phone Suit Elite Battery and Case in preparation for this exact problem. While waiting for Miss CatEye’s replacement, I hooked up the fully charged virgin battery….and SHAZAM…my iphone was slowly being revived. Goal # 4…CHECK!

Before leaving the bike shop, I made one last purchase, Rubel’s Boston’s Bikemap, which made it so much easier to find a direct path to Newton, as I was previously having difficulty reading the Boston streets on the Eastern Massachusetts Map. The embarrassing irony, is that I only needed to take one road from Back Bay Bicycles to Newton’s Boston College campus…Commonwealth Avenue…shameful to admit I didn’t know this, considering I grew up 30 minutes South of Boston.

Once I got to Newton, I used the step by step directions for the Ride to End ALS, which my partner Justine kindly found for me online. My plan is to use these directions for the bulk of my ride to NYC in August (from Newton, MA to Greenwich, CT), which will just leave me another 50 miles to map out in the beginning and end of my ride. I only used the directions for about 15 miles, but they worked like a charm. Goal # 5 accomplished.

After meeting my lovely fiancee for an impromptu lunch at Whole Foods in Wellesley, I studied my Eastern Massachusetts Road and Bicycle Map to find a route where I could cycle as many miles as possible for the next three hours but still be able to get home in time for my 6:00 meeting. I plotted out a path from Route 16 in Wellesley that took me through the beautiful towns of Natick and Sherborn, and then I turned onto Route 27 where I traveled through Medfield, Walpole, and Sharon; until I picked up Route 138 in Stoughton and cruised into Canton, where I jumped on my familiar Blue Hills path, which took me into Braintree before sliding into my hometown of Quincy. Smashed Goal #6 out of the park, and successfully navigated my way through numerous towns I had never cycled through before…and did it all without electronic devices.

Goal #7 was accomplished in the process of all the others, as I rode about 70 miles…exact amount uncertain because Mr. Sigma wasn’t put on my bike until I had already cycled 15 to 20 miles. I was making great time, the sun was shining brightly, birds were chirping, and the musical cyclist was in her glory…that is, until I was cut off and struck by a woman driving a Mazda sedan. It was startling, to say the least, as she cut a quick left into a driveway right in front of me, completely unaware that I was cruising down a hill and had no choice but to careen into her passenger side door because there was no time to stop. Now, three days later, I am grateful that I have been training so hard over the last few months because I believe it is helping this 40 year old body of mine recover from my abrupt meeting with Ms. Mazda’s right side.

Bad news: Bruised with a few minor scrapes, sprained and sore muscles, and a little frightened by how quickly life can change when drivers aren’t paying attention to what they are doing.

Good news: Alive and grateful that the accident wasn’t a lot worse. Made it to my meeting, albeit a little late, and accomplished all 7 of my goals for today!

Please be careful on the road, and watch out for cyclists!

These are the pics from today’s adventures….wound pictures not included :)

Tea Party boatsBoston Tea PartyNorth EndWater fountainBiking in front of NBSS110111092 094 095 096 097 098  100 102103105106120118      114 115State House    Arm pit shotSwan boats 2Public Gardens 2Swan boatsPublic Gardens waterPaul ReverePlantsCitgoCommonwealth AveWoodland Golf ClubWoodland Club HouseSherbornSherborn farmTractorMedfieldSharon   Canton

If your would like to donate to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS Fund, click here.

 

JUST ME AND MY CANNONDALE (OLD YELLER’)

Hingham through the spokes

If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.

It was love at first sight when I met Old Yeller’, which I affectionately named my Cannondale, at Bike Barn in Whitman, MA (which I don’t believe is still in business). I bought her after pulling in money all summer painting fences and cleaning my dad’s bar every morning. I was so excited and proud to have bought my first road bike, and I couldn’t wait to take it on the New York to Boston AIDS Ride, which I was scheduled to do a couple of months later.

As it turns out, the bike ride from Bear Mountain, New York to Boston wasn’t the biggest test Old Yeller’ would face that year. Before my friends and I had pulled out of the driveway to head to Bear Mountain, Old Yeller’ and a couple bicycle friends were seriously injured by a giant oak tree, which was shielded by the driver’s blind spot.  Three bikes were on a rear-mounted bike rack and Old Yeller’ was the last to board…but unfortunately, the first to greet the tree. Less than a month old, my yellow aluminum beauty didn’t have a scratch on it until then. So we got segued in Rhode Island and headed straight to a bike infirmary for some much needed intensive care. Old Yeller’ got two new wheels and some other minor adjustments, and the rest of the bikes were checked out and repaired…and alas, we were off to New York.

I am not sure exactly the time frame of that accident, but I would guess it was at least 15 years ago. Since then, Old Yeller’ has journeyed through many states for lots of different causes, and has never failed me. She has provided me comfort and familiarity, as my home away from home during work trips to Vermont and West Virginia where she brought me much needed mountain solace and incredible exercise. She has been my traveling companion, helping me to navigate my way through unknown streets while on vacation. She has earned me some dough and helped keep me safe when I dodged more than one crazy cab driver while working as a NYC bike messenger.  Most of all, she has been a constant therapeutic companion when I needed to thrash out some frustration or calmly cruise down a country road.

Old yellow checking out the Boston skyline

I would love to upgrade to a titanium Cannondale one day, but like my incredibly loving and loyal dog Hope (who is my “first” dog), there will never be another “first” like Old Yeller.’

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If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.